


Dark Night, Bright Light

by thedemonkingawakes



Series: When Did the Sky Go Black? [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-19
Updated: 2014-12-19
Packaged: 2018-03-02 04:00:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2798768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thedemonkingawakes/pseuds/thedemonkingawakes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A shortish fic that takes place right after 'Never Forget' Bucky and Steve are reunited, but that doesn't mean it's going to be smooth sailing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dark Night, Bright Light

Carefully, Steve eased his way out from under the covers. Sharon rolled over, but she didn’t wake. Steve smiled slightly. Quietly, he made his way through the silent house and out onto the porch. Loki’s witch lights were still floating around the edges of the porch, casting a faint light over the porch. Steve leaned on the railing, watching the stars.

A flash of silver, just beyond the circle of light cast by the floating witch lights, caught Steve’s attention. He looked closer, straining his eyes to see in the darkness. Dimly, he could make out the shape of a man.

“Who’s there?” Steve asked quietly.

The man started to back away. As he moved, his left sleeve caught on a branch. Moonlight glinted off his exposed arm.

“Hey, wait.” Steve vaulted over the railing, landing in the wet grass. “Bucky!”

Bucky yanked his arm free, tearing the sleeve of his jacket, and ran. Steve chased after him, shouting his friend’s name. Bucky ran faster, pushing his way through the trees. For a few moments, Steve lost sight of him in the darkness.

“Bucky?”

“Go away.” Bucky’s rough voice echoed among the trees.

Slowly, Steve crept forward. In the dim light cast by the moon, Steve could see Bucky leaning against a tree, his hands shoved in his pockets.

“Bucky?”

Bucky snapped into alertness, a knife in one hand.

“Bucky it’s me, Steve.” Steve spread his hands apart in a peaceful gesture as he walked forward.

Hesitantly, Bucky lowered his knife. Steve kept walking forward until he was close enough to touch Bucky. Slowly, he reached out a hand and took the knife from Bucky’s loose grasp. As the knife left his hand, Bucky seemed to crumple. He leaned back against the tree and sank down to the ground, wrapping his arms - both flesh and metal - around his knees and ignoring Steve. Steve tossed Bucky’s knife away into the underbrush. He stepped closer and crouched down so he was level with Bucky.

“Buck. It’s okay. You’re safe.”

A clap of thunder sounded in the air. Bucky looked around wildly, his eyes wide.

“It’s okay, Bucky. It’s just thunder.” Steve said, spreading his hands wide in a placating gesture. “C’mon. We should go inside before it starts raining again.”

Bucky shook his head, dropping his eyes to the ground. “Go away. I don’t know you.”

“Yes, you do. You’re my best friend, Buck, and I’m not leaving.”

“I told you to go away. Leave me alone.”

Steve shook his head. “I’m with you til the end of the line, whether you like it or not.”

Bucky raised his head to look at Steve. “Why?” He whispered brokenly.

“I told you; you’re my best friend. I’m not going to abandon you.”

Slowly, very slowly, Bucky reached out his right hand until his fingers were just brushing Steve’s. After a few moments, he gripped Steve’s hand tightly.

“Steve?” He whispered.

Steve nodded. He stood up, pulling Bucky to his feet. Bucky let him. He shoved his left hand, his metal hand, deep into his pocket. Steve slung an arm around Bucky’s shoulders and led him back towards the house.

~*~*~

Bucky could see people moving about in the kitchen. He froze just beyond the edges of the pool, watching the house warily. Steve didn’t force him. He squeezed Bucky’s shoulder gently.

“They’re okay Buck. They’re good people.”

Hesitantly, Bucky walked toward the house. His muscles were tensed, ready to flee at the slightest sign of trouble. With his free hand, Steve opened the door and led the way into the kitchen.

Clint was sitting on the counter, his legs crossed beneath him. Natasha, clad only in one of Clint’s t-shirts, was sitting in one of the chairs, talking quietly with Clint. They both looked up as the door opened.

~*~*~

_Natalia Romanova._

_Threat: Unlikely._

_Incorrect. Extremely dangerous._

_She’s Steve’s friend._

_Ally?_

_Unknown._

_Unknown male._

_Dangerous: Potentially._

~*~*~

Bucky stopped at the edges of the kitchen, watching them warily.

“Hey Cap.” Natasha said, tucking one leg underneath her. “Hello James.”

Steve raised an eyebrow, but didn’t say anything.

“It looks like the wound healed up nicely.” Clint said, smirking slightly from his perch on the countertop.

“What?”

“The arrow I put in your side five years ago? You seriously don’t remember that?”

Bucky shook his head slowly.

“What are you two doing up so early?” Steve asked, never removing his arm from Bucky’s shoulders.

The corner of Natasha’s mouth twitched up in a smile. “I could ask the same of you.”

“Couldn’t sleep.”

Natasha smiled knowingly. She stood up and walked over to where Clint was sitting. He hopped gracefully to the ground, lacing his fingers through Natasha’s.

“We’ll get out of your way then. I’m sure you have a lot to talk about.”

Steve smiled gratefully at Natasha as she and Clint slipped out of the room and disappeared down the hall towards the bedrooms. Once Bucky and Steve were alone, everything seemed to drain out of Bucky. He swayed on his feet, barely staying upright.

Steve caught him before he fell, wrapping an arm around his waist and pulling his other arm over his own shoulders.

“I’m fine.” Bucky growled, trying to shake himself free of Steve’s grip.

“Buck, you’re tired. There’s an empty couch in my room; you should get some sleep.”

Bucky protested weakly as Steve led the way down the hall to his room. The couch was tucked away in an alcove, out of sight of the rest of the room. Out of the corner of his eye, Steve could see Sharon, still asleep in the big bed. Bucky didn’t see her as he nearly collapsed onto the soft couch. Steve stood awkwardly by the end of the couch, watching his friend. Bucky was asleep before his head hit the couch cushions.

Steve smiled and reached over Bucky to grab a blanket off the end of the couch. He spread it out over Bucky, drawing it up to his friend’s shoulders.

“Sleep well, Buck.” He turned to walk away and let his friend get some sleep.

Bucky’s left hand shot out to grip Steve’s wrist. “Stay. Please.” Bucky muttered, not opening his eyes.

Steve nodded. “Course I will, Bucky. I’ll always stay.”

Bucky shifted just enough that Steve could sit down at one end of the couch. The top of his head nearly brushed Steve’s leg as he drifted back into a restless sleep. Steve grabbed a book from the end table and flipped it open to the first page.

~*~*~

Sharon rolled out of bed and wrapped a bathrobe around herself. She could hear people moving about in the kitchen as she padded quietly towards the door. Her blonde hair hung limply around her face and she pulled it back into a ponytail as she walked.

“Morning, Sharon.” Steve said quietly from the couch.

Sharon turned around. Steve closed his book and stood up, crossing the distance between them in a few steps. He kissed her good morning softly. As he broke the kiss, Sharon noticed the man sleeping on the couch.

“I see you found Sergeant Barnes.”

Steve smiled. “He found me actually. I just convinced him to come inside.”

“Is he...okay?”

Steve nodded. “Just tired, I think.”

“I’m getting coffee. Do you want some?”

Steve nodded again. “Coffee would be great, thanks.”

He kissed Sharon once more. She smiled and slipped out the door. Steve could hear her padding softly down the hall as he sat back down on the couch next to Bucky.

Sharon returned a few minutes later, a mug of coffee in either hand.

“Black. Just the way you like it.” She handed one of the mugs to Steve.

Steve smiled as he took an appreciative sip from the mug. “Who made the pot?”

“Darcy. Who else?”

“I’m going to stay here until Bucky wakes up.” Steve said, glancing down at his sleeping friend.

Sharon followed Steve’s gaze. “I promised Natasha and Sif a sparring match this morning. Do you want another book or something before I leave?”

Steve shook his head. “I’m just going to draw for a while.”

“Have fun.” Sharon replied, leaning over to plant a coffee flavored kiss on Steve’s lips.

He smiled and kissed her back sweetly. Grabbing her gun from the bedside table, Sharon changed into a pair of yoga pants and a close fitting white t-shirt.

“So, there’s a little sandwich shop in town that I noticed on my way in last night. Wanna go there for a late lunch?”

Steve nodded. “Sounds good. Does one-thirty work for you?”

Sharon glanced at the clock before nodding. “I’ll see you then.” She slipped out the door without another word, sliding her gun into its holster.

Steve watched her go before grabbing his sketchpad and a couple of pencils from the side table. He glanced down at Bucky for a moment, who was still sleeping restlessly beside him. Briefly, it crossed his mind to draw his friend, but Steve dismissed the idea. Instead, he looked out the window to where the sun was just starting to rise over the river. In the distance, he could see the city skyline.

He had just started to sketch the horizon line when Bucky shifted. Steve looked down at his friend. Bucky’s face was screwed up in pain. He twisted back and forth, his shoulder slamming into the back of the couch. Steve tossed his sketchpad onto the floor and crouched down beside Bucky.

“Bucky. Wake up.”

Steve touched Bucky’s arm gently. Bucky lashed out with his metal arm, sending Steve tumbling backwards into the wall. His momentum rolled him off the couch and onto the floor. Bucky didn’t wake up, even when he hit the hard, wooden floor. His movements became more violent as the nightmare grew worse. Steve scrambled across the floor and wrapped his arms around Bucky, pinning his arms - both flesh and metal - to his body.

Steve didn’t know how long he sat there holding Bucky. It could have been minutes or it could have been hours. Throughout it all, Bucky never made a sound; he just twisted in Steve’s tight grip, unable to break the nightmare’s hold on him.

Eventually, Bucky came around. He froze, blinking once as he assessed his surroundings. He could feel strong arms encircling him, pinning him in place.

“Glad to see you’re finally awake.”

“Steve?” Bucky shrugged out of Steve’s grip and turned to face his friend, drawing his knees up to his chest.

He could see bruises on Steve’s exposed forearms and one on his cheek.

“Did I do that?”

Slowly, Steve nodded. “It wasn’t your fault, Buck. You were having a nightmare.

Buck shrank back. “Stay away from me. I’m dangerous.”

“I don’t care.” Steve leaned back against the couch, watching Bucky with a steady gaze. “You’re my friend, Bucky; I’m not going to abandon you.”

“You should. You should forget all about me and go back to living your life.”

Steve shook his head. “Without you I wouldn’t be here. I can’t forget that any more than I can forget the train or New York or Washington. I’ve missed you, Bucky.”

“Why aren’t you afraid of me?” Bucky asked, wrapping his arms more tightly around his legs.

“You’re my best friend.” Steve replied simply.

Bucky was silent for a long time. “I heard what you said, you know. In Washington.”

“What did you think? Speech making was never one of my best qualities.”

Bucky shrugged. “I think it was honest. You might not be the most eloquent person, but you speak the truth. That’s what makes people follow you.”

“Even you? You followed me once. Was that why?”

Bucky shook his head. “I don’t think so. Everything from before is kind of jumbled, but I think I followed you because you were still just that little guy from Brooklyn who was too dumb not to run away from a fight and you needed someone to watch your back and someone to protect you. I just wish I had done a better job at it.”

“Believe me, Bucky, you did the best you could at it.”

“Where do we go from here? I’m not the same person you remember and I don’t think I can be again.”

“Neither of us are who we used to be. That doesn’t change the fact that you are my best friend.”

Bucky looked at him for a moment, surprise and confusion mingling in his eyes. “Where do we start?”

“Why don’t you meet my friends? Officially.” Steve replied, smiling.

 

 


End file.
